


The Tennessee Waltz

by Blindpulse



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Awkward Romance, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Nick is not nearly as smooth as everyone thinks, Nick valentine is a sweetheart, One Big Happy Family, One big tub of sin, Preston is an A+ buddy, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blindpulse/pseuds/Blindpulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Commonwealth's most reliable private eye had no idea that the vault dweller with an eye for garbage would change the lives of every scumbag in the state, let alone his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So after churning out that little prompt, I found I wasn't at all satisfied, not even a little bit, with trying to help provide a little bit of closure on the relationship Bethesda forbids us all from having. 
> 
> Please note that although I'll be using the character of Maggie in this series, the separate prompt is a stand-alone work.
> 
> So, without further ado, allow me to present The Tennessee Waltz! I hope you all enjoy this short introduction.

Of all the beings in the wasteland to yank Nick out of that rotten vault, it just had to be her; scruffy, too skinny for her shoulders, and a petrified expression he'd initially expected to find plastered on the face of young Darla, the woman he was supposed to be rescuing. That is, until it turned out that the would-be heroine had been in league with Skinny Malone all along and turned a gun on everyone.

  
Hardly the damsel in distress scenario he'd been counting on.

 

Despite their success in escaping Nick's captors, in which Nick fed Malone a few smart words and got them out of there without Darla self-destructing, the woman who had come to his rescue scooted vaguely to the surface of Vault 114, looking less pleased to have kept her life and more like she'd just eaten poison. Not an uncommon expression to be worn by his clients, but none seemed to have it so bad as to fight through the better part of an entire crime syndicate to hire him.

 

She must have had a knock-out case.

  
Even after he'd vocalised that thought at the station exit, she kept her lip zipped, only giving sharp, one worded responses to the flustered Mr. Handy that clung to her side. In fact, she didn't say a word to Nick on the journey back to Diamond City. That was fine with him; gave him more time to size her up without having to make conversation.

 

Given that the woman kept her back to him the whole time, the first thing Nick noticed was the near-pristine blue suit. Vault dweller. No wonder. After that, he lamented, there was nothing else for him to really examine; from the back, she had messy hair and a seemingly faithful servant who shakily referred to her as “Mum”. That was it.

 

Wasn't until they'd reached his office that he'd actually caught a good glimpse of her face behind all that hair. Brow furrowed, gaze averted, lips pursed, all shadows under the harsh lamp light at his desk.

  
This was more like it, he thought, gaze dropping down to her fidgeting hands after failing multiple times to have her meet his eye. Regardless of the fact that she'd just busted him out of a heavily guarded underground shack, she'd become the very picture of the dame he relished having in that office. After seeing a woman her size charge through the Triggermen the way she had, manipulating Malone into releasing them without a fight and reverting to a shaking mess without anyone to impress, Nick was already aware that she was determined as all hell.

 

He held out for a femme fatale sort in her; terrified, confused, vague. Just the case he loved to crack.

  
They both sat silently until he reached into his pocket, withdrawing a slightly crushed deck of cigarettes, and offered them to her.

  
She gingerly removed one from the pack, and held the stick just a little too delicately in her trembling hand, suggesting to Nick that she was new to smoking. He did manage to get her to look up at him as he lit it for her, though, and even if he didn't quite see her eyes under her fringe, the action alone was good enough for him.

  
Satisfied, Nick sat back in his seat, lighting his own cigarette before setting the flip lighter between them on the desk.

  
"Now," He began, taking a drag and leaning forward again to prop his forearms up on the table top, "How about we start at the very beginning."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Meg wrung her hands as the detective inspected her, feeling beads of sweat gathering beneath her fringe from a combination of nerves and the new level of heat that the earth seemed to have taken on after her awakening. She hadn't expected that she'd be this rattled. She'd been in a few fire-fights already since crawling out of that vault, but the ghouls on the way over, the others had neglected to fill her in on.

  
Hell, she'd taken down a giant lizard with a damned mini gun not one week earlier, it shouldn't have been too much of a stretch to let her know what else was out there.

  
She shouldn't have left Codsworth outside; she needed that crutch right now. Being an attorney, she wasn't exactly used to feeling so insecure about being scrutinised by a cop. Maybe it was because his eyes were yellow, or because they glowed, or because he was fucking whirring, being a _fucking machine_.

  
Stiffening a shiver, Meg forced herself to relax into the seat across from the smoking robot man on the other side of the desk, coming to the conclusion that this was probably what happened after two sleepless nights of hiding from ghouls. This is the kind of thing people saw.

  
The stress was just catching up to her. It would pass, and she would be fine.

  
As soon as Valentine opened his mouth, she took a long, shaky drag of her cigarette, scrunching her nose up at the sting it left in her throat. It calmed her slightly, but not nearly as much as she'd hoped. Instead of relying on the tobacco, she instead held her attention on the dirty, patchy, yellow-eyed detective, focusing on the absurdity of the classic look he'd gone after. Did he dress himself?

  
Perhaps she should make a suggestion for him to get some venetian blinds in the office.

  
"My name is Margaret." Meg told him, smoke escaping her mouth in thin plumes as she exhaled the words, breaking off at each consonant and resuming with her vowels.

  
"Nick Valentine," He immediately responded, giving her a once-over, knowing full well that she knew exactly who he was. "You don't look like much of a Margaret."

  
A tiny, crooked smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and he seemed to notice, leaning forward just slightly as she worked up the confidence to straighten out in her seat and run her fringe out of her face.

  
"I know. I go by Meg, but anything is fine, so long as it isn't god damn Margaret." She shrugged, glancing away to avoid the smile that Valentine flashed after that.

  
He chuckled and took another drag, muttering a small, "RIghti-o then. Meg it is."

  
After that introduction, both of them eased into the discussion fairly quickly; despite the half-dozen times Meg had already told her story already, she'd gotten red-faced and shiny-eyed when she'd told him about her murdered husband and kidnapped baby, but by the time he and Ellie starting tossing ideas back and forth as they usually did, the dame actually joined in. Shakily, at first, but after an hour or so the discussion grew fluid, and it was as if she'd done this before.

 

He enjoyed it. He enjoyed the crooked smile that crept through her dubious expression when his assistant suggested hunting through that recently abandoned house that had been rented out by a shifty guy accompanied by a small boy. He enjoyed it to the point where he refused her offer to pay him as soon as she found an odd job to take. He told her to instead spend the caps on getting a damn haircut, that long locks, no matter how fashionable last century, were a recipe for disaster when it came to those especially grabby ghouls.

  
The two agreed to meet again at his office once she'd managed to get the house keys off that ham-fisted mayor, and assured her for the third time that they would find her kid. The grin that she'd flashed him as he showed her back to the street pulled a mildly giddy feeling out of him, the familiar, exciting swell in his chest that meant he had a good feeling about this woman.

  
\------

  
Preston saw the silhouette of the woman approaching Sanctuary later that evening, immediately recognising the stark blue of her vault suit as it entered the cross-hairs of his rifle. A moment after he'd spotted her, a bark sounded from the shepherd that had been obediently waiting beside him, and the dog took off, almost bowling the woman over and receiving the warmest welcome Preston had seen her give someone yet.

  
She did have a crazy soft spot for that dog, though.

  
He descended the stairs of the makeshift guard tower to greet her once she'd crossed the bridge, cocking an eyebrow at her scruffy, ear-length hair that was already sticking out in several places.

  
"You're looking a bit more fit for the Commonwealth," He commented, crossing his arms with a little smile, "I'd go so far as to say that the look might actually suit you."

  
He was a little caught off-guard when she approached with a wolfish smile of her own, playfully bumping his arm with her elbow as she passed. Preston glanced over his shoulder, noticing a new-found squaring to her shoulders. Whatever she'd found in Diamond City, it must have been good.

  
Meg had barely even managed to make eye-contact with anyone but Mama Murphy and himself since she'd helped them find their home in Sanctuary Hills. Over the past week, it was like she'd settled into a feeling of permanence about the place despite everyone else's enthusiasm (well, as enthusiastic as Marcie and Jun could be). It looked like the lack of progression in her search had dulled her spirit.

  
It felt good to see her picking herself back up, even if he'd only known Meg for a week; she'd been so helpful already, he couldn't help but put just a little bit of faith in her. Heck, the lady had found them a place to stay that wasn't constantly under siege by raiders. Subconsciously cracking a grin, he turned and followed.

  
"Hey, hold up now," He began, sliding in front of the woman to block her path, an action that seemed to amuse her, "How'd it go?"

  
Meg's lips tightened, making a futile attempt at hiding obvious excitement. After a few moments, she clapped her hands down on his shoulders, giving him a little shake while Dogmeat bounced around their legs, picking up on her energy.

  
"We found a lead, Preston.” Meg beamed, “We're gonna find Shaun."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to break this up into two chapters due to length, so the next part should be out within the next few days.
> 
>  
> 
> As per usual, find me on my tumblr: beneficar.tumblr.com

Two days after their first meeting, he spotted her again in Diamond City.

Nick had been making his usual rounds, checking in on the locals and stopping in for a quick chat with Piper while Kat waved the latest edition of the Publick in his face.  
"If you see that woman again, tell her I'm still waiting on that interview," Piper had told him, as if she hadn't been reminding him each day since his return to the city.

To be honest, he didn't think Meg would have taken this long. He wondered if she'd found a new lead, dumped the private eye for a more effective helper, and so the synth had been walking around with a little cloud of disappointment hanging over his head. Even the local kids who ran by and tagged his arms, trying to coax him into joining in on their games did little to lift his increasingly sour mood.

It was the barking that had caught his attention in the market district that led him back to the woman.

He wouldn't have recognised her without that bright as hell vault suit.

She'd cut a good foot in length off her hair, and without the stuff to hide her face, he spied a faint blotch of vitiligo standing out against olive skin, situated on the corner of the right side of her jaw and trailing beneath the neck of the suit.

Amidst the barking, Nick could make out a fairly heated debate going on between the blue clad woman and Moe.  
Obviously, he went to investigate.

"Listen lady, I'm tellin' ya, your version of baseball is nice and all, but all I'm sayin' is mine's-"

"Oho! Don't you dare tell me it's better," Meg growled with a strength to her tone that Nick hadn't heard in their last meeting, "So help me, sir, I will smite you."

"Would you two mind toning it down a little bit? You're gonna scare off the tourists." Nick interjected, earning himself a yap from the dog. Shit, that was the least mutated mutt he'd ever seen out here.

Both heads snapped around to view the newcomer, and both sets of shoulders fell as the two realised who had approached.

"Aw, hey Nicky," Moe drawled, returning his baseball bat to its rightful place over his shoulder while Meg grinned, stepping away to aproach the synth.

"Hey," She greeted brightly, "We were just about to head over to the Mayor's office to grab that key."

Nick felt a little relieved hearing that, offering a small smile.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," He replied, giving a little nod of acknowledgement as the especially clean dog settled at the woman's feet, leaning against her leg. The animal eyed him, but otherwise showed no signs of aggression.

"Didn't hurt too bad, I hope?" Meg chuckled, drawing his attention back up to to her face. She seemed to have gotten used to the climate; numerous blemishes had given way to clearer skin, allowing her sharp, hazel eyes to stand out a little more. With this newfound attitude coupled with her change in appearance, he really could have mistaken her for another person. 

It was amazing what a little hope could do, Nick thought.

"Just my pride," He shrugged, earning a laugh he found difficult not to crack a grin at. Noticing his own change of mood, his previous thought was only solidified. 

It seemed even the dog was a little more skilled in inserting itself into the conversation than poor Moe, who was now awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, unsure if he was still involved in the exchange while the canine whimpered up at its owner in an attempt to get her attention.

Luckily for Moe, Meg jabbed an index finger at him, closing the man off from the conversation with: "This isn't over, my friend. You'll see."

She turned on her heel with more animation than was necessary, and commenced a stalk toward the city entrance. 

Instinctively, Nick followed, asking, "So what took you? Can't imagine a mother easily putting of the search for her kid."

Meg glanced at him over her shoulder, giving a little shrug in response.

"It's a long story."

"Good thing I love stories." Nick pressed.

Meg took a left turn for the elevator, tapping her thigh and whistling to call for the dog to follow, and then did the same to the detective. He gave an unimpressed huff, but stepped up after the animal hopped on.

"I helped out a member of the Minutemen when I got outta the vault. He and his merry band of misfits are now set up in my old neighbourhood." She explained, activating the elevator and turning to lean back against the railing.

The Minutemen. Hadn't they disbanded a while back? It had been a shame to hear that they had. He'd always respected the whole 'help at a minute's notice' ideology.

Tugging a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lighting it, Nick gave a curt nod.

"Sanctuary, right? Think I head about it on the radio." He mused, taking a drag and resting his forearms on the same railing.

"That's the one," She smiled crookedly, "Anyway, he sent me down to Cambridge station to spread the word of us bringing the Minutemen back. Long story short, I got roped into this 'Brotherhood of Steel' business and almost got burnt to a crisp by your cheeky 'Institute' brethren."  
Nick frowned at her.

"You're aware I'm not with the Institute, right? Just for future reference?"

"I'm aware," Meg assured, holding her hands up in defence before moving closer to tap at his exposed metal hand, "It's obvious you're one of these synths everyone's shitting themselves over, but everyone in Diamond City seems to have their heads up your ass. Now how is that?"

Nick wasn't going to lie; he wasn't fond of people pointing out his lack of humanity, as obvious as it may have been. He didn't really need vocalised reminders on top of the relentless ones he already lived with. 

"Now that's a long story." He replied shortly, and before Meg could respond the elevator screeched to a stop, followed by the ringing greeting of the Mayor's assistant.

"Good afternoon!" She chimed, leaning forward over the desk to get a look at the trio as they stepped inside. Her gaze landed on the dog, and a dubious expression immediately replaced the bright smile she'd been wearing previously.

Meg seemed to notice this, and glanced down at the shepherd by her side. 

"Don't mind Dogmeat here. The worst he can do is bruise up your legs with that tail of his," She assured absently, peering around for their target, "Is the mayor in?"

Dogmeat. What the hell kind of name was that?

\------

Their little chat with Mcdonough went smoothly enough; the guy looked pretty unsure about handing over the keys to the house, but once Nick had pledged his support for the investigation, the place was theirs to search provided they went in after sunset so as not to draw any attention. 

The last thing the city needed was more paranoia, especially when it involved more missing people, Mcdonough had reminded them. 

Nick and Meg headed back to the agency to wait, running into Ellie in the alleyway on her way home. The dame offered nothing but a playful wink as she passed the two, earning an amused grunt from Meg. Nick pretended not to notice, tipping his hat to Ellie as she snuck another look over her shoulder, but he knew that she was sharper than that. It wasn't often Nick brought a client into the office more than once.

No doubt he'd have to brace himself in the morning for an interrogation. 

"So what kind of cases does a cop in a lawless society find himself with?" Meg asked, shifting his attention back to the other woman. She was already standing outside the agency, and he moved briskly to unlock the door for her.

"I uh, usually fairly mundane ones," Nick admitted, shoving the door open and slipping inside quickly, just in case Ellie had stuck around to observe the two in the cramped hallway to his office. There was no way in hell that girl would try and set him up again.

"Take a look if you want. They're-"

"I know what a case file looks like," The woman chuckled, stalking across the room to rummage through the files. She walked her index and middle finger over the corners of the folders in order to get a look at what names he'd given the cases.

Probably looking for the moment dramatic sounding one. 

Surprisingly, she pulled one of the shorter files out, slapping it down on the desk, and seating herself in his chair. Nick found himself creeping closer to look over her shoulder.

"What about you? What did you do for work before the war?" He asked, watching her study the completed case.  
"I was a lawyer."

Nick couldn't help but laugh at that, earning a crooked smirk from the woman as he rounded the table to sit across from her. Dogmeat followed, waiting until Nick had seated himself to rest his muzzle on the synths knee. 

"What does a lawyer do in a lawless society?" He chuckled, humoring the shepherd with a scrub on the head.

He heard a sigh from Meg, luckily finding a smile still on her face. She was attractive up close, he thought, and with that pale splotch on her neck, it felt a little like the imperfection mirrored his own patchiness on the opposite side. 

"I'm still working on that," she replied with a one-shouldered shrug.

"You could play legal advisor to an old private eye," Nick grinned, "I'm sure your Minutemen buddies wouldn't mind one of their own quoting the Constitution at all the bad guys us detectives nab."

Meg looked up from the file at that, her lips curling upward at the corners. With the lamplight adding a sharpness to those big, hazel eyes, Nick thought she looked a little like a cat. Impish, curious, gauging Nick's own expression to calculate her next words.

"If you're always this much of a flirt, I may have to consider." She answered, and he felt his mechanical chest swell with excitement.

The two chatted for the next few hours while they waited for the sky to darken, and as soon as the sun began to descend, they were out the door ledd by an excited Dogmeat.

He was a smart animal, Nick thought; seemed to pick up on the nature of their case and kept alert, looking as if he was taking on his own responsibilities. Best of all, he liked Nick. He pranced between the detective and the lawyer as they made their way through the streets toward the abandoned house. By the time they arrived, Nick had decided he liked the dog back.

Meg wasn't having as breezey of a time of a time, and understandably so. Her brow was furrowed, and her left hand kept pushing behind her to check for the presence of the sawed-off shotgun that clipped horizontally to the small of her back. It was clear from the choice of Weapon that she had no intention of being neither clean nor merciful about this.

As driven as she was by her emotion in that moment, Nick felt good about her determination.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, he thought. It would certainly be a show when they found Kellogg.

"Remember to try and keep a clear head," He muttered as he unlocked the door, "We don't know much about this guy, alright? Anything could be waiting for us. I didn't want to say it before, but Kellogg isn't just a gun for hire. Everything I dug up on him points to a professional with no living enemies. Except you."

"I'll do my best," Meg replied lowly, following closely as he pushed the door open and headed inside. Well, at least he tried. 

Looking around, Nick couldn't find anything immediately out of place. The house seemed small for what he guessed were Kellogg's tastes, and a variety of tools lay scattered on a desk by the stairs at the opposite end of the room.

It was too inconspicuous. The only strange thing in the place was the fact that Meg had begun slipping what odds and ends she could down the front of her vault suit. She paused, though, when she felt Nick's eyes on her.

"What?"

"You buildin' a collection or something?" Nick grunted back, averting his eyes while she removed the objects and set them back down on the desktop, "Just look for anything out of place. He's got to have left something."

While Nick got to work flipping through the various bits of paper that littered the floor and finding nothing substantial, Meg continued to fiddle around at the desk.  
"Hello; what's this?" Her voice chimed, and Nick almost smacked his head on the stair railing he shot up so fast.  
"What, what is it? Find something?" He asked hurriedly, striding toward the woman as she crouched beside the desk. He bent at the hips to get a look at what she was referring to, and felt that same swell of excitement as his gaze landed on a big red button. 

"You wanna do the honours?" Meg asked, turning to him with a playful grin. This close up, she smelled of smoke and vanilla.

Nick straightened back out, returning the expression and jamming his hands into his pockets. 

"You go right ahead Maggie. I'll keep an eye out for whatever it controls." He muttered, glancing around.  
"Maggie, huh? Haven't gotten that one before."

He heard a click, followed by the sound of concrete dragging on concrete as the wall behind the woman he'd accidentally nicknamed began shifting to the side, revealing another darkened room behind it.  
"Did ya spot anything?" She joked, earning herself a short grunt. 

Nick headed in first, almost whistling at the sight before him: A heavy ammunitions box sat beside an armchair that had been fitted with handcuffs. The room was dotted with bullets big enough to take down a Yao Guai, electrical equipment and beer bottles; no doubt the abode of a mercenary. 

There wasn't a doubt in Nick's mind that this was their guy now.

"Look at this," Nick commented as he looked around, gaze landing on Meg when she entered the room, brow furrowed with a look of concern, "All of a merc's favorite things."

Meg stopped at the small table beside the armchair, examining a half-smoked cigar.

"San Francisco Sunlights," She uttered, flicking the thing back into the ashtray, "Same guy who's livin' it up, suckin' down this tacky ass brand shot my husband in the face and stole my baby."

There was poison in her voice; it was bitter, mournful, spiteful. Nick moved to her side, giving her shoulder a light pat as he passed. Plucking the cigar back out of the ashtray, Nick glanced at the woman.

"Personal taste isn't much to go off, unfortunately." He commented, rolling the cigar in his left hand between his thumb and index finger. San Francisco Sunlights. Unique taste.

"Then what do we do?" Meg asked after a heavy exhale, setting a hand on her hip and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other. She was looking more stressed by the minute, and with all that building adrenaline going to waste, Nick felt a brief pang of worry that she might return to the mindset she'd had during their first meeting.

He wracked his metal brain for an answer, a way to catch the crook and soothe the lady. All this stuff laying around and no direct leads to any specific location. Kellogg had, however, been using all this stuff.

"We could take a shot at tracking Kellogg," Nick shrugged, earning a dubious look from Meg.

"See, if we had a pack of bloodhounds on hand, I'd say 'yay', but how could we track the guy? Follow the trail of cigars? The guy would've died of throat cancer before we caught up to him."

The thoughtful silence between them after that turned into a blessing. The sound of panting from the doorway drew Nick and Meg's attention, and both turned their heads to look at the dog. Sitting obediently, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, curiously looking between the two.

"Hey buddy," Meg cooed, words alone causing Dogmeat's tail to thump wildly against the doorframe, "You wanna help solve a crime?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to get this one out! School is officially finished so I've been a bit busy.
> 
> From this chapter on, there will be violence involved for conflicts and fights, but hopefully not anything too gory.
> 
> Please enjoy!
> 
> My tumblr: beneficar.tumblr.com

"Get after him boy!"

Dogmeat darted across the clearing that signified the entrance to Diamond City, stopping briefly at the statue out front in the Fens to consider marking his territory. A correcting bark from Meg brought his focus back onto their target, and they were off again.

Meg had barely listened to Nick's advice about keeping cautious, sprinting to keep up with her dog as he led them out of the ruined city and into the wasteland while the detective lagged behind in a steady jog.

She'd only decided to heed his word when she felt his metal hand suddenly grip the neck of her vault suit and yank her into cover behind a stone wall. After receiving a filthy look, Nick had pointed through the descending fog at the silhouettes of two grown Deathclaws battling it out on the road.

Her heart raced at the sight, and she shrunk back, mildly ashamed of her own stupidity. She wasn't going to last another second out here if she wasn't going to at least think.

Nick seemed satisfied enough with a muttered apology and had moved his hand to her shoulder, still in support despite her previous attitude.

He didn't lecture her, thank god.

Up ahead, Dogmeat awaited them on another road that bordered the mouth of a forest, and Meg prayed that they wouldn't have to go in, that this trip would go smoothly. She knew it wouldn't, though.

They waited a few moments for the beasts to move away before resuming their trek, and Meg could feel Nick's eyes on her as they walked. 

"You alright?" She asked, inclining her head to look at him.

The detective shrugged, almost instantly shifting his gaze down to the recently lit cigarette in his right hand.

"I was wondering the same thing about you," He drawled, "What do you plan to do if Kellogg doesn't have your answers? He might not have Shaun with him."

Meg's stomach dropped at the prospect of not finding her son with the mercenary, but she was well aware of the chances of them actually finding him. 

"It'd be wonderful if he was there, but convenience isn't something I've come to expect from this place," She answered truthfully, "In any case, I'm here for the man who killed my husband."

She heard nothing from Nick for a long moment, hearing the ember crackling in his cigarette as he took a drag, and an audible exhale.

"Listen, Maggie, if this is your thing, you can tell me to buzz off. I mean I'd love to help you nab this guy, but if you'd rather go it alone..."

Oh, that was very sweet.

Meg felt a smile creep across her face and a warming in her uneasy heart, and she looked ahead into the trees ahead before returning her gaze to the synth.

"Are you serious?" She raised her eyebrows, letting out a breath of laughter, and Nick looked back over at her, dubious.

"You're aware that you're the only person, aside from my own damn butler, that has actually shown an interest in helping me find Shaun?"

Nick shot her an amused look after that, the hunch in his posture lessening. He must have liked that answer.

"What about your loyal tracker over there?" He asked, flicking his cigarette onto the gravel, "I doubt he'd like you sayin' that."

"Dogmeat's fantastic, but he doesn't exactly ask to help. What makes him great is that I could probably lay in shit and he'd be excited to be there." Meg replied thoughtfully, stepping closer to nudge Nick with her shoulder, "Of course I want you here, and you're a good enough guy that I'd want you around after I blow Kellogg's face off." 

Nick rubbed awkwardly at the back of his head after that, glancing down at his feet as they walked.

"Aw, hell Maggie." 

Before they could continue, an aggressive bark sounded from up the road. Dogmeat was nowhere in sight and probably up ahead over the small slope that stretched before them.

Could he have found Kellogg already? 

Deep voices, too deep to be human rose from behind the slope, and Meg's excitement dropped way down to worry. There were super mutants up ahead. Brilliant. Just what they needed. 

"Hear that?" She asked, lowering her voice to a murmur, heart already picking up its pace.

Nick nodded, crouching to remain unseen as they came to the peak of the road, spying three male super mutants investigating the approaching shepherd. They seemed only curious, probably surprised to actually find a dog that still had fur.

But as was so common to super mutants, one of them decided it wanted to kill the animal, and that was all it took for the other two to join in.

A pained yelp echoed through the clearing as the instigator delivered a quick and heavy kick to Dogmeat's torso, and Meg's vision almost went red.

That was her god damned dog.

Forgetting completely about the fact that she had only a shotgun to cross the roughly twenty-metre distance between them, Meg darted forward, narrowly missing another grab from Nick to keep her from doing so. His hand slid along her side, and as she took off, she could hear the synth cursing.

Her adrenaline, the blood pumping loudly between her ears had completely drowned out any thought over the stupidity of charging in. She wasn't going to lose another one. No fuckin' way.

They were alerted as soon as she broke into a sprint, and Dogmeat, bless his soul, seemed to instantly pick up on what to do.

With a loud snarl, the canine snapped his head toward the closest super mutant, just as it was reaching for its pipe rifle to shoot down his owner, and sunk his teeth deep into its ankle.

A howl sounded, distracting the other two long enough to allow Meg to duck behind a tree trunk, load her weapon, and fire.

Pellets rippled along the back and shoulders of one, but none going any deeper than a few centimetres, most glinting in the moonlight, stuck in the creature's back as he turned around without even so much as a grunt from the shot.

Her cover apparently wasn't up to scratch as the super mutant immediately made eye-contact with her through the bushes after commencing his search.

"Stupid lady," He growled, ignoring his subordinates as they took in turns to attempt to remove Dogmeat from their limbs.

Only then did it dawn on Meg that this had likely been a terrible idea.

"God dammit, Meg!" 

One of the mutants tending to Dogmeat threw his head back with a heave, thick, dark blood spraying out of hole in his temple as he collapsed onto the road in a heavy slap.

Suppressing a retch at the sight, still not accustomed to the sight of so much blood, Meg stumbled back into the undergrowth, hurriedly trying to find a new hiding place while the super mutant kept his pipe rifle trained on her movements.

A searing pain shot along the side of her head, followed by the burn of oxidation and a loud 'pop'.

She'd been shot, she knew it, even as the adrenaline kept her from feeling the full extent of the shot. Meg's stomach coiled in her belly, her throat tightening and drying out while her heart beat even faster. 

The mutants heavy footsteps drew near, almost right on top of her, glaring, furious.

Her neck felt warm, sticky.

She couldn't run. She was in its sights.

She was going to die.

A feral snarl sounded as Dogmeat dived onto her opponent, throwing him off-guard for just enough time for Meg to push herself off the ground.

Aim.

Hold.

Fire.

The super mutants chest rippled, splitting open as he was thrown back by the shot with a yell.

Meg shook at the sight, licking her suddenly dried lips, and reloaded.

A small, curious whimper from Dogmeat signalled that the canine was okay, and he rejoined his owner as she approached the fresh body. A quick look, and the only thing worth taking was a stimpak.

Another, more familiar yell sounded, and both Meg and Dogmeat straightened, looking up to find their accomplice ducked behind a car, fumbling with the clip on his emptied pistol as the last remaining mutant advanced on him.  
______________________________________________________

Shit, of course his gun had to go and jam on him at a time like this. 

Nick cursed, smacking the magazine against the rear bumper of his cover, and cursed again. On the third attempt, a click vibrating through the weapon told him that it had fitted.

Exhaling, Nick put aside his relief to peek over the trunk of the rusted vehicle, finding his opponent closer than he'd expected, giggling excitedly as it closed in on its prey.  
Nick steadied, chewing the corner of his lips, and fired twice, just as the mutant loomed over him with a wooden plank at the ready.

It was a surprise to see the damn things head disappear in the blink of an eye. He didn't exactly use bullets of especially high caliber.

Either way, he allowed himself to feel the relief that had threatened to dawn on him earlier, before becoming mildly disgusted by the amount of super mutant blood he was then showered with.

As the beast fell, he found Meg's much smaller being standing right behind it, shotgun pointed at him, accompanied by her trusty mutt.

He was ticked off by her idiocy, by her completely disregarding his warning and rushing into battle with a few fucking super mutants, but his metal heart could've smashed it's way out of his chest at the sight of the two still alive.

Plus, it explain what had happened to that other mutant just now.

"Jesús, Maggie, what the hell were you thinking?!" He barked after a good moment of them all taking the opportunity to breathe, "You could've been killed! You almost got killed!"

Like the lawyer she was, she rushed to defend her cause with a defiant look, setting her firearm back in its clip and huffing.

"They went after Dogmeat!" She yapped back, ignoring said animal as he happily greeted the detective, "What else was I supposed to do?"

Nick placed a hand on his knee to push himself to a stand and approached the woman. He opened his mouth to retort, but paused as his gaze fell to the dark stain down the right shoulder of her vault suit. Fresh blood shone, crawling up her neck and into her hair.

He felt his jaw clench at the sight, and shit, now he felt bad for yelling at her. It was a dumb thing to do, but Meg was a woman who'd lost everything. She was clearly dead-set on not losing anything she gained.

"Christ, Maggie, you're hurt," He grumbled, stuffing his gun back into his holster and stepping closer to get a look at where the blood was coming from. She seemed to soften as well, tilting her head to the side to let him inspect the wound. 

A horizontal gash stretched over the top of her ear, still bleeding freely over her hair and flesh, no thicker than a pencil. A bullet wound. Nick felt a pang of concern over that. Just a little bit closer, and she would've been dead.

"Almost got me," Meg shrugged, giving Dogmeat's neck a good scratch after he sat himself between the two of them, "He had a stimpak on him, though. Thank god."

"Thank god," Nick repeated, stepping past her to retrieve the item. It had been clipped to the front of the mutants belt, luckily avoiding the blood that had spilled from the creature.

Meg stood still as he administered the stimpak to her neck. The closer to the wound, the better, and within a few seconds, the serum inside had been pumped through her body enough to adequately stop the bleeding. 

"Ya gotta stop scaring me like this, or I might just have to find a way to have a heart attack. Or an equivalent, at least." He commented, earning a slight chuckle.

"I'm sorry, Nick." She murmured, before giving him a little nudge with her elbow, "But now you can be sure I'm gonna think again before I get shot in the head. Wary trout from here on out."

Nick wasn't exactly sure where she'd picked up that term, but he was happy enough for now with the fact that she was alive and reasonably well.

"Grab whatever armor you can fit into on 'em and let's press on before the advantage of night leaves us." He told her with a brief nod, lighting up a much needed cigarette and passing it to the woman before lighting one for himself and taking a long drag.

"Hey boy, think you still got his scent?" He heard Meg asked, following by am enthusiastic bark.

"Good Boy! Aren't you a good boy-yes you are-you's a good boy." 

Nick looked down to find the woman crouched down and embracing her dog, scratching his chest with one hand and pressing her lips to the side of his snout.

A little smile tugged at one corner of his lips. She was good to her people. Fatally so, it seemed, but it was still a valuable trait to have. Nick found himself yearning to be one of those people as he observed Meg and Dogmeat, welcoming and caring.

He was finding it difficult to even want to shake off that incredibly good feeling that came with her.

He hoped she didn't die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect Kellogg and angst in the next chapter!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter is pretty much based around the 'Reunions' quest, with a few little tweaks here and there.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> As usual my tumblr is: beneficar.tumblr.com

The horizon had begun to pale by the time Dogmeat had led them out of the forest and into a town over West. Rusted old military vehicles suggested high traffic in the area during the war.

Questions sprung up in Meg's brain about where the war had even travelled when the bomb was dropped. If only she'd taken an interest in Nate's work; he'd have probably known all about it. 

He was gone now, though, and she'd never be able to correct that.

Shaking off the thought, she glanced over her shoulder at Nick. Pistol drawn, watching the emptied buildings with a furrowed brow as his bright eyes searched for movement behind the dilapidated walls.

She was thankful to have someone not only so helpful, but so willing along for the journey. His confidence was contagious, and it felt good to have a bit of back and forth. Conversation kept her going, encouraged her to feel at ease and in control of the situation.

It was the quiet that made her turn still, alone and out of her depth.

There was no noise in this town save for the quiet chugging of turrets, signifying that they were close to their target. Not even a distant clap of gunfire. No other signs of life.

Meg's heart jumped when Dogmeat took a left turn toward a large concrete building and padded up the stairs to a heavily barricaded door. She'd almost hoped that they'd take more time searching for Kellogg. Her energy had already been spent on fighting mutants and hiding from Yao Guai.

A light dab of Nick's fingers on her upper arm once they'd ascended the stairs lessened the exhaustion slightly. They were so close; how could she be considering shying away now?

"We'll have to find another way around, but Kellogg's in there," His voice rumbled over her shoulder, causing a shiver to spark up her spine, "Wouldn't doubt it for a second."

Nick stepped past her to examine the barricade, and looked down at Dogmeat when a curious whimper sounded from the animal. He reached down to give him a scratch behind the ears and glanced back up at Meg for a moment.  
"I think we should give Dogmeat here a rest."

A pang of guilt hit Meg hard after hearing that. Their run in with those mutants earlier must have told the detective that she became a liability around the dog when he was in danger. He would have been correct in guessing that; the thought of taking Dogmeat in there to be lost to her husband's murderer was a grim one. She probably wouldn't handle it.

"I mean it. He's been trackin' a perp all night, and already taken a beating. We might have to carry on ourselves from here." Nick went on after a moment. He must've picked up on her dubious expression. Damn Detective.

She shook her head, heading forth to join in on the pats.

"No, no, I agree. He's gone above and beyond already," She nodded, tapping the dog's snout with an index finger and making eye contact with him, "Hey buddy. Nick and I are gonna take it from here, okay?"

The immediate whine was painful to hear. Dogmeat was the most reliable crutch she had, and she was his master; neither of them wanted to part from the other.

"You gotta go home, boy," She insisted, resisting acknowledgement of his attempt to get as close as possible and charm her into changing her mind, "The others are probably worried sick about you anyway."

Appealing to the animal's sense of loyalty seemed to work, and after giving a sneeze in a final show of displeasure he was off, back down the stairs and across the street, quickly disappearing behind the charred cars and broken houses.

"Well," Meg straightened out, forcing herself to focus back on the task at hand and looking to Nick, "Let's find a way in, shall we?"  
__________________________________________

The two didn't speak as they searched the perimeter for a way into the building, both keeping low and quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention. There were multiple machine turrets lining the roof of the place (Nick counted seven, but there may have been more), and if even one was alerted, the others would be set off.

After a good twenty minutes of peering through every grate and sifting through debris that may have been covering some secret entrance, they stopped when Nick gave an impatient huff.

"Something, there has to be something!" He growled quietly, tapping his incisors together and flexing his exposed hand as it trailed over a bit of broken wood they'd shifted twice already. He was out of cigarettes, and the memory of withdrawal wasn't helping him remain patient.

Meg, who'd looked terrified the entire time, seemed to find it amusing to watch him struggle, no matter how many warning looks he shot her.

Yet another giggle earned a metal index finger pointed between her eyes and a second growl from Nick.

"Meg, the attitude ain't helping," He informed her, unable to be totally forceful in his inflection, watching her track him with mirth in her eyes, "Now just-...just gimme a moment, alright?"

The woman simply gave his hand a light push, holding lightly onto his wrist as she brought it back down to his side. A finger grazed one of the little wires that carried sensory information, causing Nick to twitch a little in response to the sudden tingle that came with the touch.

"We're not on a time limit," She told him, letting go of his hand. She hadn't responded to the impulse. Mustn't have been an exposed wire. 

"Kellogg isn't going anywhere. We've got him pinned."  
She was so fickle. Something told Nick she might have been pressing for time. Meg had his sympathies, there was no doubt about that, but he wasn't planning on continuing to let her feelings alone get in the way of her own mission. Hell, if they had the time he might be willing to give the lady a pep talk, but they didn't.

She'd chosen to take this path. She had no choice now but to stick with it, and suddenly deciding to play the hard luck dame again wasn't going to help.

"Well, we haven't even found the exit he might be using to escape, so I suggest we keep looking," He responded gruffly, tilting his head back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The action turned out to be a god send, because when Nick opened his eyes, his gaze was pointed right at what they'd been looking for. 

At least that's what he told Meg as he cupped one of her feet in his hands and gave the woman a boost up to the roof. 

With so many turrets up there, Kellogg had to have been trying to defend the entrance. How else would he himself be getting in and out?

It took another ten minutes to even reach the emergency exit up there. After Meg made a lovely show of her physical strength by failing to pull Nick up with her, he eventually decided to jump up himself, ignoring his creaking joints and the light scrape of metal on metal as he hoisted himself up onto the roof.

Getting past the turrets was the easier part of the journey so far; keeping low and quiet was hardly a stretch, but the ease of getting inside (luckily, Meg perked up a bit once they'd gotten there) had Nick questioning what else Kellogg had waiting for them in that big building. 

It was dark on the second floor. 

The few shoots of light that had managed to enter the hallway came from the rooms that lined it. 

Maybe someone had boarded up the windows? 

Nick's entrance had kicked up dust, and in the dim light he could see the particles collecting on his eyes. It had been a long time since anything had been up here.

Blinking out the grit, he turned to help Meg into the building as she dropped through the hole in the roof, keeping a steady grip on her ribs to minimise noise when she'd hit the ground.

"Holy shit, it's pitch black in here," She whispered, squinting in the low light and reminding Nick that he probably saw a whole lot more than she did.

After a moment, Meg's gaze settled on the detective, eyes shining yellow in reflection of his own.

"How are we s'posed to find him even we can't even see?" Meg went on, feeling for her pip boy, and within a moment, the hall was bathed in a dull green.  
"Hello?"

Nick's head snapped forward at the sound of a new voice further up the hall behind a closed door. His ears picked up the familiar buzz of movement, and his chest tightened. He should have known. They were dealing with the Institute after all.

"Synths." He uttered, reaching for his pistol.  
____________________________________________

Kellogg had been mildly surprised to find movement on the security cameras; he'd been holed up in Fort Hagen for weeks without any sign of interest taken in the place. Diamond City Radio had done wonders in preparing him for some sort of attack, so he really shouldn't have been shocked at all.

He'd been expecting a small army. Not just an old synth to have accompanied her.

There was no way they'd even make to the first floor, he'd thought, sticking close to the monitors, allowing himself some entertainment in watching the vault dweller move slowly through the top floor. She looked scared-stiff, just like the last time he'd seen her in the freezer.

The first pang of worry hit him when the lady managed to hack into the old protectron that had been laying around upstairs.

The second came when the second level security feed showed only destroyed synths, twitching and sparking at the damage that had been done to them.

He'd activated the speakers and issued his first warning after spotting her on the ground floor, just above his own head. He told her to turn and leave before it was too late.  
He tried levelling with the woman after finding that frightened expression completely cleared from her face. She'd only been growing more angry as they progressed, and continued to scowl after Kellogg's second warning.

Eventually, he gave up trying to deter her. All the taunts and the trying to appeal to her better nature weren't doing shit. He hadn't wanted to kill her. He'd already taken her life, but now he needed to end it.

At least she'd get the closure of trying.

She'd stalked into the room with the synth hovering behind her, and even after so many years with the Institute, Kellogg couldn't quite recognise what model the machine was. It moved like a human, watching him with hard, cautious eyes as they entered. Must've been a throw-out model. Gen-3 synths never looked that shitty.

The mother, however, he recognised instantly; every little detail. That feline face, partially upsetted by a blotch of pale against darker skin. Big hazel eyes, dark brown hair. Pretty close to her offspring.

She lacked that fancy hairdo he'd first seen her with, and that brand new vault suit was stained down the front with blood. Shining sweat stuck her fringe to her forehead.

It looked almost as if she'd been living in the Commonwealth for years.  
_____________________________________________

Her gut churned as soon as his face came into view  
There he was; murderer of her husband and abductor of her child. The man who ruined her life, exactly the same as she'd remembered, wolfish and horrible.

"There she is," He spoke as they approached, making her ears ring at the sound of his voice, stress-response sending her as many messages as it could to make her turn and run, "The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth. Funny. I thought I had that honour."

Meg wanted to kill him right then and there. If it had just been the two of them in that room together, without Nick and all these armoured synths watching, she'd do it. If she knew where to find her baby, she'd kill Kellogg in a heartbeat.

But she didn't, and she couldn't.

"Where is my son? Where is Shaun?" She demanded, almost surprising herself with the depth and danger of her own voice.

Kellogg's answer of course, failed to satisfy.

A vague explanation and a shitty attempt at letting her know Shaun was safe, barely heard over the sound of blood pumping in her ears.

Her jaw stiffened against her chattering teeth, and a low growl rumbled from deep in her throat.

"God dammit you mercenary mother fucker. Where is, my son?!" 

"What's the cliché?" Kellogg shot back without any change in his calm demeanour, "So close, yet so far away? At least you'll die knowing he's safe, and with a loving family. The Institute."

Meg felt Nick still beside her at that response. He'd been on the right track since the beginning. As impressive as it would have been, though, it meant bad news.

It wouldn't stop her from trying, though. At this point, nothing would come in between her and finding her son.

"Here, the Institute, I'll find my son no matter where he is." She spat, struggling not to draw her shotgun right then and there and blow that fucker's head right off his shoulders.

"That's the spirit. You know I have to admit, I find myself actually...liking you." 

Her stomach churned again at that, at the apparent sincerity of his voice. 

"I admire your dedication to motherhood, even if it is useless," He went on with a little exhale, gaze falling to her feet for just a moment, "But I think we've been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end."

He paused after that, looking almost regretful. 

No, there was no way he'd gain her sympathy. He was a cheating, murdering psychopath. He needed to be ended.

"You ready?" The man asked quietly, causing her mouth to pull into a twisted little smile.

"In a hundred years, when I finally die, I hope I go to hell so I can kill you all over again, you piece of shit." Meg told him smoothly, reaching behind her to grab her weapon.

There was a loud clap, followed by a grunt behind her from Nick as he spun around to cover the two synths that had gathered behind them.

Suddenly, Meg felt a cold hand on the side of her head, and before she had time to react, Kellogg slammed her head against the boiler beside them with inhuman strength.

She could hear sizzling, and a dull burning in her face before a brief jolt of agonizing pain that caused her to yelp. Her knees instantly weakened as her nervous system tried to push her into submission, but she found the arm that kept her pinned to the object, ignoring her instincts, and twisted her head.

A grunt sounded from Kellogg when she bit down hard on his wrist, and her body finally seemed to catch up with the fact that she was planning to fight rather than run. The tension in her teeth faded as her vision sharpened, barely tasting the taste of iron and copper and something that wasn't quite blood as it spilled over her tongue.

When he wrenched his arm from her, Meg followed, pouncing at him, knocking the man off-balance and using momentum against him. Unfortunately, he had the speed and wit to throw a punch at her jaw when they landed, and she was pushed back by the force of it, forcing her to sit up while she straddled his thighs.

She had him pinned. He was stronger than her. So much stronger. She act to act, her instincts screamed at her through the white noise in her head.

Feeling for the stock of her shotgun, she felt it clip out of its holder. 

She had him now.

The fore-end slid smoothly over the magazine, and everything moved just a little slower as she sat up, outstretched her arm, and pressed the sight to his head.

Whatever fight he'd been about to make at that point stopped completely, and Kellogg's eyes locked onto hers, furious and antagonistic at first, and then resigned a second later when the cold of the muzzle dug into his forehead.

"For my life, you nasty fuck." Meg purred, not breaking that eye-contact when she pulled the trigger, and in the blink of an eye, his face, his entire head was scattered across the floor.

Meg knelt there, still for a long moment while the shock of the noise and the sight came and went, and when it was over, she could feel her while body starting to shake.

The rush left her then, left her with a terrified emptiness as she watched the mess below her. Her grip on the weapon weakened until it slipped to the floor, and her stomach coiled into knots.  
It was over.  
_____________________________________________

It had been conveniently just after Nick had taken out the last of the synths when he heard the killing shot. At first, he was a little grateful; the killing of old synths had always made him uncomfortable. The fact that most of them wore a more simplistic version of his own face was a bit too uncanny valley for him to want to deal with.

The afterthought always stuck with him for a little while.

He'd gotten hit a few times during the fight, giving him a dodgy left arm from a shot to the shoulder (he could feel the familiar sting of a foreign body in the joint, which meant that one had probably come from Kellogg) and just a little bit of a limp after getting the wires in his knee all screwed up by one of those fancy Institute guns. 

Nothing he couldn't handle. In fact, he found it downright miraculous that he wasn't in worse shape. Maybe his new partner was just lucky, he mused.

When Nick dusted himself off and looked over at her, he couldn't help but cringe at the sight: Meg, staggering through a messy scene into the corner to cough up her guts with a nasty burn on her temple and blood oozing out of her nose.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

He hastily went to her side when she'd straightened out. She was shaken up bad, and her bottom lip was all split up.

"Did a number on ya." Nick commented, forcing out a chuckle in an attempt to calm the situation.

It seemed to work well enough; Meg accepted the still-working arm that he'd draped over her shoulders, pressing her head to his neck and reaching up to hold onto his metal hand. It was an awkward position, and he wasn't going to lie, the smell of burnt flesh was confronting this close up.

But she needed the support, and he was happy to provide it after what had just happened. After everything she'd been through so far.

It took a good few minutes for her to stop shaking and try to look like killing Kellogg hadn't thrown her off, huffing and grumbling and putting on the tough act, but hell, anything was better than seeing a dame so unnerved.

"Y'know," She began quietly, stopping to hum and reach into her mouth to pull out a molar and flick it away, "This whole 'revenge is sweet' thing? I'm not really feeling it."

Nick laughed involuntarily at that, giving the woman a squeeze before detaching himself to go and examine the body.

"Nick," He heard her call, obviously noticing the limp, "You're hurt. Oh shit, Nick, are you okay?"

She caught up as he crouched down to see what he could find on Kellogg. Mostly warped pieces of metal skull sitting in the puddle that was once a mercenary. A few wires and chips attached to various parts, too.The guy was basically a synth with a few human parts.

"I'll be fine once I get my hands on a screwdriver," He replied with a wave of his hand.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, and she bent down beside him.

"Let's get out of here," Meg told him, and he turned to look at her. Even with broken lip, a bloodied nose, and a second-degree burn on her left temple, she still managed to be pretty.

"Yeah. Yeah," He found himself nodding, "Let's go."  
It turned out that his knee was in worse shape than he'd thought, and the two of them wound up spending a good five minutes trying to stand him back up. 

But!

After that, they were good to go. They even managed to grab a pack of cigarettes on the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I should be getting an actual laptop of my own pretty soon, which means I'll actually be able to tidy all these chapters up and have the new ones looking all nice too.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love hearing your comments; they brighten my whole life!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: beneficar.tumblr.com
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter's relatively short; I felt the massive length of the next one needed a bit of a bridge, so here it is! Enjoy!

The next few days went slowly for Nick, slower than usual, and for a guy who wasn't able to distract himself with sleep or food, boredom was torturous.

Maggie (as he had decided to officially refer to her after that shared experience in dealing with Kellogg) had raced him back to Sanctuary, her home town, after a Brotherhood airship had flown overheard on their way back to Diamond City. Something about knowing who to ask. He hadn't really been paying attention while he was leaking coolant fluid all over the place.

It turned out that Maggie's little run-in with the Brotherhood of Steel hadn't exactly come to a close, and Nick recieved a pretty nasty shock when the woman brought him home to a god damn Paladin waiting for them at the bridge.

Danse, his name was.

He scowled at Nick like any other Brotherhood member and Maggie had to distract the guy from complaining about the presence of a synth. He'd referred to her as 'Soldier'. Something about that address really rubbed Nick the wrong way. From the looks of it, Danse liked calling her that.

They left quickly, stranding Nick in Sanctuary with no familiar company save for Dogmeat who must have decided at some point that Nick now belonged to him. The little family that the vault dweller had picked up seemed nice enough, but Nick had become so accustomed to people coming to him rather than reaching out to others that he found it awkward just walking past their little main shack.

A Minuteman by the name of Preston was the first to officially welcome him to the community, and thankfully that seemed to prompt the others. Preston had led him to their mechanic, Sturges, who sat him down and inspected the damage that had been done in Fort Hagen. The guy actually seemed pretty damn excited to be repairing a synth, and Nick couldn't help but appreciate that.

While Sturges worked away, the eldest of the group approached him and introduced herself as Mama Murphy. She had a thick accent and a tired look about her, and Nick liked her right away.

"Thanks for helping out the kid," She'd said, "Always nice to see a helping hand out here in the Commonwealth."

"You lot met in Concord, right?" Nick asked, looking from Murphy to Preston while Sturges dug around in his shoulder in search of the bullet that had lodged itself in there.

"She popped right outta that vault and came to our rescue." Mama Murphy smiled.

"Fought a Deathclaw with a minigun!" Sturges chimed, and Nick honestly hadn't been surprised to hear it. After all, she'd charged her way through most of a crime syndicate to get to him. 

"The kid gave us a home," Mama Murphy went on, "But we're all just a little too broken to return the help, and she's gonna need all the help she can get, I just know it."

Another surge came and went in Nick's chest after hearing that. He hadn't really known what kind of a person Maggie was outside her objective, whether she'd turn out a bad egg when everything was said and done. Waking up in hell with a broken life and a missing kid, and the first thing she'd done was swoop in and offer the little she had to a group in need?

Nick respected that, hell, he admired that kindness. It made him think that if she hadn't lost Shaun, if she hadn't had some reason to pull him out of that vault that she would've done it anyway. That seemed like his kind of person.

Had she led him half way across the Commonwealth back here to Sanctuary to offer him the same thing? 

"I'll do my best," Nick shrugged, pleased by the feeling of elation that swirled around inside him, "Maggie'll be safe with me."

Preston finally spoke up then, treating the detective with a warm smile. 

"Thanks, Valentine." 

_______________________________________________

 

Maggie finally came home after three intensely slow days. Nick had spent most of that time helping out where he could, stretching out his arm and leg to make sure Sturges hadn't screwed anything too tight. During the nights he went for solitude, shacking up in the ruined house next door to what he later found out was Maggie's before the war. 

He stayed clear of the place after hearing that, even if the others had made a habit out of sleeping in her room when she was out. They'd said she didn't mind, but he thought it intrusive.

Dogmeat had alerted everyone with a series of excited barks and shrieks to Danse and Maggie's arrival, the two of them making their way through a thick layer of fog across the bridge in matching Brotherhood of Steel power armor. 

The attire concerned Nick, but he put in the effort to remain patient while they arrived at the main house and got crowded by everyone, waiting until most of the group had returned to their duties after greeting them to leave his own little space to see for himself what had happened.

Had she gone and joined a faction already? Of all the ones she could've joined, it was the guys who wanted him dead the most?

When he approached, it was like she'd barely noticed his presence, keeping still for a good minute or two before removing herself from the suit and slumping out the back of it. He would've felt a bit offended if it hadn't been for the state she was in.

The woman had stumbled back after leaving the armor, swaying over to the workbench to sit up and rest her weight. Her burn had been bandaged up nicely, and her vault suit had been cleaned; she should've looked fresh as a daisy, but the heavy bags beneath her eyes gave away some pretty serious exhaustion.

"Well aren't you a sorry sight, all dressed up with the Paladin. D'jah pick a fight with a pack of ghouls?" He asked, unable to mask the irritation in his voice as he addressed her.

A long breath escaped Maggie, and he instantly felt like crap for treating her as such.

"Actually, it was super mutants..." She groaned, pushing out a dry chuckle and slowly inclining her head to look over at him, "How's it goin', Nick?"

"It's goin'. Trying to imagine why you'd wanna throw in your lot with-"

"Before you start with me, I told them I had no interest in running around killing everything that wasn't human." The lady snapped all of a sudden, expression blank while his blew up with surprise. "But as it turns out, their leader doesn't take no for an answer, so I'm now a Knight, whatever rank that is."

Nick stayed quiet for a few seconds, half expecting a scolding, but the vault dweller ended up sighing again instead, shoulders sagging as her posture collapsed.

"Sorry. I've hardly gotten any sleep."

"You alright?" He asked, shuffling over to lean against the workbench, beside her, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, I'm fine. They're not interested in helping me find Shaun, so I'll be avoiding them as much as possible. The Brotherhood doesn't need my help." Maggie shrugged, offering him a little, tired smile. 

He smiled back.

"Aw, it's not all that bad. Looks like you got yourself a paramour." Nick nodded in the direction of Danse as the guy did lazy little laps around the central tree. He'd taken off that stupid cap, and had taken to glancing over at them every once in a while.

Maggie gave a small breath of laughter and leaned back against the machinery. "It's not what you think. He's just excited."

Nick's gaze remained on the man for a moment longer before returning to Maggie. "Could've fooled me," He shrugged, "At least you got yourself some shinier power armor now. I'd wondered what you'd look like as a robot."

Maggie's eyebrows rose at that, and she smirked as she looked back at him, amusement playing on her scabbed lips.

"And?"

He grinned at that. 

"Not bad."

He could've sworn her ears turned just a shade darker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main quest will resume next chapter, which will be a hell of a lot longer.
> 
> If any of you guys are into Heavy Rain, check out my new story! It's also about a missing kid named Shaun.
> 
> Your support has been incredible and I blush whenever I see a new kudos or comment. I love you all very much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tabled this for a month, and realised that writing this story is more important to me than studies.
> 
> So I'm back! 
> 
> My tumblr: beneficar.tumblr.com

Another week passed while Maggie reluctantly rested back at Sanctuary (if you could even call it resting, what with all the errands she was in the middle of running for everyone), and Nick had been happy to wait until she was good and ready to hit the road again. On the fourth day, while Mama Murphy had been asking the woman to build her a chair instead of being satisfied with one of the ones around town, Nick decided that he'd had enough, approaching the two and taking Maggie's hand to pull her away from everybody else's business for a moment. 

 

Maggie was flexible, sure, but she didn't know how to say no.

 

Seemed pretty grateful after he'd gotten her outta there, though, enthusiastically playing Diamond City Radio over her Pip-boy like Sturges had showed her while they trekked across the Commonwealth together once more.

 

* * *

 

"Is it just me, or does everyone in the state on a first name basis with you?" 

 

Nick glanced across at his companion after taking a drag of his cigarette, watching hers bounce about as she spoke with it between her lips. He had received a relatively warm welcome from the skinless guards of Goodneighbour as they entered the town, but many friendly eyes on him turned hard when moved to his brightly-coloured partner. 

 

The sooner that suit faded, the better. Thankfully, what was left of society (that term being used very, very loosely) had branded Nick Valentine and his people trustworthy, so the woman was allowed into the area provided she not stray from the detective's side.

 

"You'd be surprised how often folks find themselves up at night and turning to the man who never sleeps for company." Nick shrugged as they moved through the gates and into the light of Goodneighbour. "Keep close, will ya?"

 

"Hold up, there." A gravelly voice interjected, and Nick's gaze snapped to Maggie's side, where one of the locals had crept from the shadows. From the sound, Nick had expected a ghoul to have joined them, but the bald man was human. Probably vocal damage from Jet. 

 

He watched Maggie with faux confidence, eyes flicking down to the pockets of her suit. "First time in Goodneighbour? You can't just go walkin' around without insurance." 

 

Nick was about to practice his usual "beat it, bucko", taking a step forward to defend the woman, but to his surprise she did the same, squaring her shoulders in the same way she had when arguing with Moe. 

 

"I wouldn't worry about that," She declined with a crooked smile, eyes narrowing just slightly, "I can handle myself."

 

The man didn't budge, well-used to newcomers claiming the same thing.

 

"No, no, I don't think you understand what I have to offer," He insisted, this time lowly as he challenged her motion, stepping closer himself so that she would need to tilt her head back to keep eye-contact.

 

The man's posture held strong until the purr of a more familiar voice sounded from the alley behind him. Guy stepped right back after that, revealing the shining leather of a tricorn hat emerging from the shadows over his shoulder.

 

As soon as their company turned to address the new arrival, Maggie made her move, releasing a short growl as she leapt forward, grabbing the man by the wrist and shoulder and yanking his arm up behind him, pinning his hand between his shoulder blades. He instinctively bent forward away from her, but Maggie seized, holding him strong against her front and peering over his shoulder at Hancock.

 

Nick made no move to correct her; despite that she probably believed the ghoul to be in kahootz with this guy, making her position clear was by no means a bad idea in Goodneighbour.

 

Hancock seemed to pick up the same vibe, and lazily held up his hands in mock surrender.

 

"Woah, woah, time out." He purred, addressing the woman with glinting black eyes and a smirk, quickly bringing his hands back down by his sides as he inclined his head to look to the man struggling between them. "Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you're harassing his friend here with that extortion crap?"

 

Hancock spared a glance past both of them at the detective, offering a little nod. "Good to see you again, Nick."

 

Nick, however, kept his eyes on their unsuccessful attacker, acknowledging Hancock through addressing him by name. His divided attention at that moment was more or less on seeing how the lady handled herself. Pretty familiar with sizing folks up, if you asked his opinion.

 

The deep crease in Maggie's brow shallowed at that.

  
"You not with him?" She asked, and after a small shrug was offered from the mayor, she shoved the man forward before stepping back to rejoin Nick.

 

"What do you care?" The man argued, jerking his head to point out the woman behind him, "She ain't one of us."

 

"No love for your mayor, Finn?" Hancock teased, his expression unchanging, "I told you to leave her alone."

 

"You gone soft, Hancock," The man, Finn, spat back at him, "Keep letting outsiders walk all over us like this, and there's gonna be a new mayor."

 

Hancock regarded that statement with yet another shrug, sauntering up to Finn with his fingers linked behind his back. The ghoul was clearly shorter than his subject, but leaned in toward him deliberately like a predator.

 

"Come on man, this is me we're talking about," He drawled, still smirking. The sheen of a blade between Hancock's fingers didn't go unnoticed by Nick, and just as quickly as the detective moved to shield Maggie's eyes from witnessing the attack (he never could help playing the Lady and Knight game), Hancock had plunged the knife up into Finn's solar plexus.

 

On the second entry of the blade, Hancock held the gasping man still and close. "Why'd you have to go and say something like that, huh?" He murmured, before sliding the weapon back out of Finn and shoving him to the ground where his last remaining seconds were spent.

 

Nick's gaze settled squarely on the mayor of Goodneighbour after that, watching while Hancock wiped off either side of his knife on his sleeve and tucked it away again. 

 

"Y'know, you didn't have to kill the guy." He admonished, earning a simple chuckle.

 

Hancock failed to address the complaint, instead heading around Nick to stand before Maggie. In return, she pushed herself out of Nick's arms to match the ghoul's stance, watching with apprehension and curiosity. Had she come across a non-feral ghoul before?

 

<p>"You okay, sister?" 

 

"Yeah," She nodded, "Nick's right though. You didn't have to kill him."

 

"Look, it seems like you had Finn handled back there, but that ain't the way things run around here," Hancock told her with a nod of his own, "Goodneighbour's of the people, for the people. You feel me?" 

 

Maggie looked sceptical at that, shooting Nick a glance, and Hancock chuckled, pulling her attention back to him.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"Meg." 

 

"Well Meg, you make friends with the right people and you'll fit in just fine, alright?" Hancock's smirk briefly flickered into more of a genuine smile, keeping his smokey eyes locked on hers while he spoke. Maggie seemed to soften after that, and offered a crooked smile of her own.

 

"I'll keep that in mind, Hancock." 

 

The address without formal introduction widened the Mayor's smirk, and Nick's caught a subtle twitch of Hancock's eyelids. That nutty ghoul was was sizing her up.

 

"Oh, I like you already," Hancock grinned, his words suddenly tempting Nick to sock him in the jaw, "Say, you wouldn't mind if I borrowed your friend here, would you?"

 

"I'm on a job, Hancock." Nick interjected, forgetting to mask the warning tone that came with the sentence.

  
Hancock's gaze then broke away from Maggie and snapped onto the detective. "It'll just take a second," He insisted, "Besides, Meg here can take care of herself for a little while, can't she?"

 

Nick hadn't exactly been planning to ditch the lady in the middle of town, but after both he and Hancock looked in her direction, it looked like the decision had already been made for him. Maggie watched the mayor with that same playful confidence she regarded himself with, and had it been aimed at him, he would have been delighted to comply. Instead, the look was for the ghoul beside him, turning Nick sour and reluctant.

 

"I'll be fine," She said, her eyes meeting his, extinguishing his envy with a second of attention, "Business is business. I'll just look around town."

 

"That's the way," Hancock purred back, and Nick felt the ghoul's scarred hand on his shoulder, "I'll have Nick come look for you when we're done." 

 

With that, Maggie spun on her heel and headed up the main alley and around the corner into the heart of Goodneighbour.

 

This time Nick couldn't help his exasperated groan when he heard Hancock give a low whistle, also watching the woman disappear into the town.

 

* * *

 

Meg hadn't waited for Nick's company to scope out the Memory Den. From how he'd described the place, granting people conscious access to their own subconscious, it seemed like a place to check out for recreation before the search for Shaun resumed and everything turned dire once again. 

 

The interior of the building felt like a movie set; one of those 30's style spaces based off of old-fashioned brothels and burlesque houses, covered in red and velvet and lacking in the harsh lighting that seemed to be in use these days. Even the more futuristic beds scattered about the place were overshadowed by the mood.

 

Despite the era it had left off from, the wasteland seemed nostalgic of ages that had been decades, even centuries before her time. Preston and the Minutemen, and the irony of finding the guy in an American history museum (if you held him still for long enough, you'd probably think him to be another statue), and then the mayor of Goodneighbour himself reflecting a similar time with that get-up. It was refreshing to see that the world hadn't gotten stuck in the fifties, despite what the wreckage and radio would suggest.

 

"You lost, sweetheart?"

 

Meg's train of thought cut off when addressed by the voice of a woman, and her gaze snapped to the centre of the room.

 

A blonde woman lay draped over a fainting couch on a raised platform, dressed in a feathered gown and watching Meg with a serene expression. Her comparative cleanliness to the world outside made her all the more striking, lit up like a movie star on a film set.

  
"What brings you to the memory den?"

 

Her voice was silky, aged beyond her appearance, and warm enough to have Meg forget completely about checking out the other venues around town and find herself stammering, thrown off and pulled in by the beauty of this woman.

 

<p>"My uh, my friend and I are here on business, but he isn't here yet." She explained, approaching cautiously.

 

The woman dabbed at her cigarette, ashing onto the floor, but otherwise made no move from her seat. She squinted at Meg's response, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

 

"Business?" She asked, one eyebrow arching, "Sweetheart, do you even know what we do here?" 

 

Meg stopped at the edge of the platform, about to reply when one of the heavy front doors swung shut behind her.

  
"Evening Irma," Nick's voice greeted over his footsteps, "We're after Doctor Amari."

 

Irma's eyes lingered on Meg for a moment before gliding to the side to settle on the synth, and the woman pursed her lips, lipgloss shining under the lamplight. 

 

“Nick Valentine!” She exclaimed, flashing white teeth through a broad smile, “We thought you'd disappeared.”

 

Meg heard Nick chuckle further away, already rounding the platform and heading for a doorway at the end of the room. 

 

“What, and leave you?” He grinned over his shoulder, “Wouldn't dream of it.”

 

It was only when Nick beckoned for Meg to follow that the woman actually moved, utterly fascinated by Irma, and now her interaction with the synth. It was surreal; it was like a scene taken straight out of Hollywood. A crooked smile tugged at Meg's lips at the absurdity of the show, and as she rounded the table her gaze met Irma's once again.

 

The woman's eyes tracked her as she walked, extending that same playful smile to Meg before calling back: “Head right in, you old flirt.”

 

It took Meg a good few moments to return to herself after that. 

 

No wonder the Memory Den was popular.

 

The building returned to the same dilapidated state that all the places in the Commonwealth shared once they'd stepped through the doorway and headed down a set of creaky wooden stairs. As they descended, the smell of perfume and smoke was gradually replaced by the confronting aroma of rubber and cleaning product, and the paint dulled more the lower they travelled.

 

At the foot of the stairs was a fairly clean office, populated by two beds identical to the ones upstairs, and a dark-haired woman in a pristine lab coat with her back to the door, flicking gingerly at the body of a syringe.

 

“Doctor Amari?” Nick announced their presence, and the woman sighed, calmly placing the syringe down and turning to look at her visitors, almost as if she'd expected them. When Nick came knocking, one probably wouldn't expect a lighthearted conversation.

 

“I take it this isn't a social call?” Doctor Amari asked him with a stern look as he approached, stopping in the centre of the room. Rather than keep her eyes on Nick, she looked to Meg, briefly examining the vault suit that clung to her. Almost everyone did that. How much stigma was there attached to the vaults? 

 

The harsh look on Amari's face contrasted from the stunning woman upstairs, watching Meg for an explanation rather than Nick. As intimidating as the woman seemed, it felt refreshing to not have Nick speaking for her, that she didn't need to be spoken for to be taken seriously.

 

“You can extract memories, is that right?” Meg asked, causing a crease to form between Amari's eyebrows.

 

“Typically we only allow clients to experience their own memories.” She frowned. “Just what is this all about?”

 

  
“We need a deep dig, Amari,” Nick spoke up, “But it's not going to be easy. The perp, Kellogg, is already cold on the floor.”

 

Well, he didn't beat around the bush.

 

Amari hadn't broken eye-contact with Meg until Nick's last sentence, mouth slightly agape while she watched Nick incredulously for a good few moments. 

 

“Are you two mad…?” She squinted from one guest to the other, “Not only are you asking for me to defile a corpse, but to extract memories from an inactive brain? These machines require living memories to function.”

 

“Well technically the corpse was already defiled.” Meg gave an exaggerated shrug and looked to Nick, prompting him to reach into his pocket and withdraw the various remains of Kellogg's brain. 

 

“This dead brain had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari,” Nick explained while the Doctor shot him a horrified look, “The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth. You need this, and so do we."

 

Truth be told, Amari seemed less interested in Nick's little speech once she'd actually looked down at the parts that were being presented to her.

 

“Hold on,” She began, plucking a curly little piece of metal from the detective's hand and inspecting it closely, “That's a hippocampus! And this…a neuro-interface?” Amari ran the tip of her index finger along the edge of the object, and while Nick stepped forward, sharing the woman's fascination, Meg wasn't as experienced with robotics as the two.

 

“That looks awfully familiar.” Nick murmured.

 

“I'm not surprised,” Amari replied, “From what I've seen, Institute technology always uses a similar architecture. There's no sign of decay, so the tech could be preserving the tissue.”

 

“So we're good to go then, right?” Meg cocked her head to the side, earning herself a frown.

 

“Not without a compatible port."

 

“Well what about me?” Nick chimed with a shrug, “I'm an old synth. If I've got the right parts, we could have an in.”

 

Amari's frown only deepened at that, and pursed her lips before speaking again. “There could be long-term side-effects. You would be acting as the active brain, and given how heavily encrypted the brain would be, your client would be experiencing the memories,” She trailed dubiously, “Plugging another brain into you…I can't even begin to list the risks involved.”

 

Meg's steadily growing excitement tapered after hearing that, while Nick squared his shoulders with a look of determination.

 

“Don't bother. I don't need to hear them.” 

 

Meg looked over at the detective to find him already watching her, smiling. Did he actually think this was a good Idea? A wave of dread crashed over her at the unknown risk Nick was taking, just to help her out, and she found herself letting Shaun fall by the wayside for the moment.

 

There had to be another way.

 

Her stomach began to coil, and she shook her head.

 

“No. You're not going to do it.” 

 

“Yes I am,” Nick immediately insisted, taking a few steps toward Meg to place his hands on her shoulders, “You need this, Maggie. This is your kid we're talking about.”

 

“No, we're talking about putting a murderer in your head.” Meg spat back at him, suddenly outraged at how calm he was about all of this, at how her resolve faltered when he took another step closer and slid his hands down to her upper arms, and how it didn't feel like Shaun was the priority at that moment.

 

“I'm not going to let you do this, Nick. There, there has to be a way around this.” She insisted, head still shaking while her stomach only coiled tighter and her eyes began to sting.

 

“Listen to me,” Nick told her quietly, voice a low rumble as he bent his head forward, the brim of his hat brushing against her hair, “You've got all the reason to be angry at the world after what it took away from you, but see, I've only seen you do good since you got here. There's no one in the Commonwealth I'd be happier to do this with.”

 

Meg gave him a sharp scowl. “You're the only person I've got out here. If something goes wrong-“

 

The detective moved his better hand to smooth over her face, still smiling.

 

“You helped me, and I intend to repay the favor.” He finalised, before turning away from her and heading over to one of the beds. “If I start cackling like an old, grizzled mercenary, pull me out, okay? Plug me in, doc.” 

 

“Ready when you are.” Amari replied quietly, readying the device while Nick approached and sat down in front of her. She leaned in close and attached the little piece of Kellogg to a port in the base of the detective's head, and after a moment, he hummed.

 

"Do you see anything, Mister Valentine?" Amari asked.

 

"Ah," Nick began with a sudden wince, and Meg was at his side in a second, "I'm getting a lot of flashes, Doc. Can't make sense of any of it."

"You okay?" Meg asked, earning a stiff nod while Amari sighed.

 

"That's what I was afraid of." The Doctor breathed. "The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute built one last failsafe: there's a lock on the memories inside the implant. The memory encryption is too strong for one mind."

 

There was a moment of quiet after that, with Nick grimacing and Meg gripping his shoulder as more of a support for herself than him, and Amari deep in thought.

 

"What if we used two?" The doctor finally suggested, causing Meg to frown.

 

"So there's a mad scientist in you after all." She grumbled.

 

Aware of the look she was receiving from the other woman, Amari continued. "We load both you and Mister Valentine into the memory loungers. Run your cognitive functions in parallel." She explained. "He'll act as a host, while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find."

 

Being in Nick's head? That sounded...invasive. Meg had given birth in front of a stranger before and that honestly seemed less personal than something like this. There was a little, tickling part of her that found it interesting, to wander through the detective's head, but she coughed in the most sensible way she could to hide the tiny grin that brewed on her face.

 

"I'm not gonna find him in any compromising positions, am I?" She giggled, earning a loud sigh from Nick.

 

"If a smart mouth was all it took to solve problems, we would have found your kid by now." He gruffly shot back, though his embarrassment was given away by his refusal to look at her after retorting.

 

"Er, no. The only memories you'll access are the ones in the implant." Amari assured, looking a little uncomfortable herself.

 

With a parting look at Nick, Meg nodded and stood to make her way to another pod. "Alright." She said. "Let's do it."

 

Amari gave a little nod of her own. "Sit down, and keep your fingers crossed."

 

“If this works, we should try plugging you into a toaster next.” Meg shot back, voice still straining under her mood and earning a chuckle. “Any idea of what we might find in there, Doctor?”

 

“Given that this is only a piece of the temporal lobe, I doubt it will be cohesive, but beyond that, I'm afraid I have no clue.” Amari replied.

 

Meg sat herself down on the bed and slipped inside beneath the lid while Amari flicked a switch to close the lids over both pods. Right before the seal of hers closed around the bed, Meg could hear Nick muttering: “See you on the other side.”

 

And then all of a sudden, she felt as if she'd been awake for days, and finally laid down to rest. 

 

Amari's muffled words from outside were completely incomprehensible as she drifted off into heavy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't have a crush on Irma?
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this one; let me know!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've got a laptop, this story is undergoing a serious redecoration, so please bear with me while I upgrade and iron all these bit and pieces :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Check my tumblr, beneficar.tumblr.com for more Nick valentine nonsense.

“Can you hear me?”

Meg's vision cleared as Amari's voice echoed through the dark space around her. Glowing shapes began to take form before her, though, earning a pleased hum from Amari outside while the shapes stretched into something that resembled massive neurons, however none that floated nearby seemed connected in any way, firing into empty space.

“Ah, good. The simulation appears to be working, although the memories are quite fragmentary. I'll try to lead you through the intact memories, and hope we find one that gives us some clue to the Institute's location.

Without warning, Meg felt herself being pulled past the neurons, flying through the dead space with little feeling but an odd, weak breeze as Amari led her consciousness through Kellogg's broken memories. Then, she slowed at a long, connected chain of successfully firing neurons, standing out from the others with a dull red signal. 

Meg was then tugged along the length of the chain until an open scene came into view, not unlike a diorama. Stepping into the scene, and touching down on the cement floor, her sense of touch seemed to return with a slight chill. 

Beside her sat a woman, and across from them on a small bed, a boy. The two seemed to have been in the middle of an unheard conversation when the woman handed the child a gun.

“You're the man of the family, now. It's your job to protect us.” The woman told him, completely oblivious to Meg's presence in the room. “Your father's useless. You won't turn out like him. You're a good boy. The only thing that will protect you in this world is that gun. You need to learn to use it.”

Noting the hesitant expression on the boy's face as he aimed down the sights of the weapon, Meg frowned. Her father had never let her anywhere near his guns as a child, let alone bestowed her with one. Nate was the same, always keeping weapons hidden from view. It was foreign, witnessing a mother so supportively giving her child such a heavy burden.

“I-I will, mom. I promise.” The boy replied quietly. “I won't let you down.”

The room went dark after that, shocking Meg for a split second when Amari spoke up again.

“This doesn't seem to be what we're looking for.” The Doctor mused. “But there appears to be another intact memory close to you in temporal sequence.”

“Great.” Meg huffed, looking around the open space in the room. Her gaze settled on a new chain heading off in another direction. She wasn't in the mood to receive any more compassion sequences about the man who had shot her husband in the head, so she was a little apprehensive about following it until Amari left her with no other choice.

Climbing up the neurons led her to another room, and exactly what she wasn't in the mood to witness. A younger Kellogg and a red-headed woman stood together preparing food, Kellogg assuring his cautious lover that their new lifestyle was a good choice. On the other side of the room was a crib, and without a second thought, Meg rushed to it to examine the baby inside. It was blonde and pale, and with a sinking stomach she concluded that this infant wasn't at all Shaun.

Looking at the baby, Meg found herself with the name 'Mary' playing on her tongue.

“-This is what's gonna keep you safe. I promise.” 

Meg's gaze snapped up to find Kellogg holding a gun before the woman her instinct told her was Sarah. Sarah offered a small smile, appreciative when Kellogg apporached the stirring baby.

The scene darkened again.

“Let's keep looking. I'll connect you to the next intact memory.” Amari spoke, causing Meg to grunt. 

“Can't you go any faster? This is turning into a real pity parade.” She complained, heading up the new string of red that materialised along the room.

She'd just about had it when he led her down a corridor, furiously storming a hostile building in search of vengeance in such a similar fashion to the way Meg herself had done, ignoring taunts over nearby speakers with a shotgun at the ready. 

When Kellogg's image evaporated and reassembled in a bar agreeing to take on an assassination contract, Meg allowed herself to largely ignore the conversation, stubbornly guarding the moral high ground. If it had to be simplified, so be it; if she hadn't sunk to that level, then he didn't have to. Kellogg wouldn't gain her sympathy after everything he'd put her through.

The next sequence, to Meg's curiosity, revealed a woman in a lab coat surrounded by synths. Looked like Institute material to her. Affirming her thought, Amari stirred outside.

“Looks like we're getting closer.” The Doctor mused, not bothering to wait for the conversation between Kellogg and the scientist to end before opening up a new memory for Meg to step into. Now they knew without a doubt that Kellogg was working with the Institute. All they needed now was why he'd taken Shaun, and where.

Meg found her spirits lifted a little, knowing that they were almost there, but climbing into the next room, she felt her stomach drop the moment she looked ahead. To rows of cryogenic pods and a walkway in which Kellogg led two Institute scientists up to one pod in particular.

“Amari,” Meg warned, throat already tightening, “Amari, I-I can't see this.”

“You have to get to the other side of that room to get to the next memory.” Amari responded quietly. “I'm sorry.”

Barely able to hear the other woman, Meg gulped, holding her breath to steady her weak legs and hold in any further protests. If she got through there quick enough, she wouldn't have to be involved.

The Nate's pod had already been unsealed by the time she'd managed to walk herself up to the group, and she stopped when he heard her husband gasp. She hadn't been able to hear him from her point of view.

“Is...is it over?” Nate asked, causing Meg to shiver. Despite just being defrosted, despite that he was seconds away from death, his voice sounded incredible. It had been so long since she'd heard him, and for a second she almost went to reply.

“Come here, baby, come on.” Cooed a scientist, and immediately Meg broke away, knowing what to expect next. Her legs had all but turned to jelly by the time Shaun started to cry, and her gut wrenched at the sound of Nate's quiet protests.

“Give us the baby, or else.” Kellogg warned as Meg ascended the stairs, almost out of the room. She'd just reached the next chain when she heard her husband again.

“No!” He barked, “I won't let you take Shaun!” 

Then that painfully loud gunshot of Kellogg's pistol followed her out. The same pistol she'd stolen from the mercenary's corpse as a trophy killed her husband.  
Despite the shakiness that Meg felt all over, the serenity of the steadily pulsing neurons below her feet offered a much needed silence. She took a moment to breathe, and went to wipe her eyes, only to find that she hadn't been crying.

“I'm...sorry you had to go through that again.” Amari said softly.

“It's just a memory.” Meg weakly assured the both of them. “No use dwelling.”

After that, she pulled herself together and thanked god that this particular chain was on a downward slope.

“This one look like the last intact memory.” The Doctor informed. “So hopefully Mister Valentine won't be kept waiting much longer?”

“Let's hope it's got something useful. Can he see all this?” Meg asked, looking around. She'd completely forgotten that they were inside Nick's head rather than Kellogg's. Shit, she hoped he was doing okay.

“I don't see why not, given that this is his mind hosting you. He may be experiencing these memories as Kellogg.”

Meg winced at that. “Gee, thanks, Amari.” She murmured, before passing into the next room.

Kellogg sat in the abandoned apartment she and Nick had searched, polishing his gun and listening to the jumpy host on Diamond City Radio.

“Is that your son?” Amari asked.

“Who?” Meg glanced away from Kellogg, spotting a tawny little boy with black hair sitting cross-legged on the ground at the foot of the stairs, drawing on scrap-paper. He looked like a living photo of her husband during childhood. She'd been expecting an infant, given that Kellogg hadn't aged, but the resemblance was too uncanny to deny.

“Shaun!” She exclaimed, rushing to the boy. When her hands slipped through his shoulders, she settled for sitting back on her haunches and longingly inspecting the boy's familiar face for any signs of damage. 

She found none. He was perfect. He didn't even look upset.

“This appears to be a very recent memory, so good news, I think.”

Both Kellogg and Meg jumped at a crackling sound behind them, Meg rushing to get in front of her son and Kellogg pulling his revolver on the newly arrived leather-clad man who had seemingly appeared out of thin air.

It took a second, but Kellogg lowered the weapon, prompting Meg to step away from Shaun (not that her presence would've mattered) and concentrate on the two men rather the child.

“Kellogg.” The man greeted sternly. He had rich, dark skin, was covered in black from the chin down, and his face was partially hidden behind a thick pair of reflective sunglasses. The only real note-worthy thing about the man was his haircut; in the weeks she'd been in the Commonwealth, she'd never seen hair that surgically neat.

“One of these days you're gonna get your head blown off, just barging in here like that.” Kellogg gruffly responded with a hint of relief in his tone.

“Minimising my exposure to civilians is a priority-”

“Forget I said anything.” Kellogg interrupted, standing from his seat as the man approached. “What's the big crisis this time?”

“New orders for you. One of our scientists has left the Institute.” Came the reply, sparking almost the same intrigued expression from both Meg and Kellogg while Shaun simply carried on scribbling. 

“Left? As in...”

“He's gone rogue.” The man continued. “Name's Doctor Brian Virgil. We know he's hiding somewhere in the glowing sea.” He stopped to reach into his jacket, withdrawing the cleanest manilla folder Meg had seen, even by pre-war standards, and held it out for Kellogg to take.

“Wow.” Kellogg grunted, plucking the folder up and taking a quick glance inside. Meg made an attempt to get a look at whatever profile would be inside, but to her disappointment there was only writing. “Some heads are gonna roll for this. Capture and return, or just elimination?”

“Elimination. He was working on a highly classified program.”

“No kidding.” Kellogg replied, looking back down at the report. “One of the top bioscience boys? Damn. So...I guess that means you're taking the kid back with you?”

Meg could have retched at the flicker of longing in his voice.

“Affirmative. Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil.” The man nodded as Shaun rose and approached him.

“You're taking me back to my Father now?” The boy asked.

“Yes. Stand next to me and hold still.”

“Okay.” Shaun obediently did as he was told, standing close to the man and looking to Kellogg with a bright smile. “Bye, Mister Kellogg! I hope I get to see you again sometime soon!”

“X6-88, ready to relay with Shaun.” The man announced, and a second later, the two of them were enveloped in a beam of light, loudly crashing to the floor and then disappearing without a trace.

“What the hell...?” Meg hissed, ignoring Kellogg's lonely reply to her son and looking over the area where the two had been standing. “They just disappeared!”

“Teleportation.” Amari clarified, although it sounded like she herself hadn't been expecting the idea. “Now it all makes sense! Nobody's found the entrance to the Institute because there IS no entrance!” 

The level of excitement that the staid little Doctor had in her voice at that moment could've made the entire experiment worth it, even if Meg had no idea what the hell she was talking about. It sounded like good news, though.

“Let me pull you out of there. Whenever you're ready.” Amari told her, darkening the final memory and highlighting a broken television in the corner of the room. Even on the other side of the building, the light it emitted was intense, and approaching the appliance was downright uncomfortable, stinging her eyes and forcing her to stir. Rather than wake up, though, Meg found the environment around her changing again.

“Amari?” She called. “You said this was the last one, didn't you?”

“Oh dear. Hold on.” The woman replied.

“Oh dear? What does 'oh dear' mean, Amari?” Meg pressed,suddenly nervous. The room around her continued to pale, but she didn't wake up. 

Whatever Amari said after that went unheard. Everything went white.


	9. Chapter 9

That was supposed to be the last of Kellogg's memories; the reel was supposed to have burned through, and Amari should've unplugged them by now, but instead of normal waking consciousness (or Nick's equivalent to it), Nick was stuck still in the mechanical mind of the mercenary, watching Maggie's image grow more and more pale while a fine ringing echoed through his head.

Soon enough, Nicks' head was full of stinging light, no longer able to see his partner, and the noise in his ears reached an uncomfortably high pitch. The sound continued to escalate until it became near-unbearable, yanking a small gasp out of the detective.

And then, he was fine.

He was scowling at Eddie Winter's fat head from behind the prosecutor's table across the room, awaiting the trial he prayed would have the crook put away for good this time.

It had been a dangerous job from the start, but things got serious when bureaucracy got involved; Eddie had power and connections, but Nick Valentine was stubborn as all hell, and any attempts at bribery or intimidation on Eddie's part went ignored, making the detective a great big thorn in his side.

Today, Eddie was supposed to get put away, only the state had gone and hired some fresh out of college amateur attorney to be the prosecution. It was nothing Nick would've controlled, but everyone in Boston knew how infamous and how slippery Eddie Winter was. For a crook who just kept managing to evade prison, he might have actually gotten to the courts themselves, Nick feared.

Nick's gaze shifted to the empty prosecution table. He had to admit, he'd gotten there early, but what if there was something missing? What if they weren't prepared? What if Winter hadn't bribed the jury and they wound up losing anyway?

After five more minutes of greasing the lump of a criminal who refused to return his gaze, Nick crossed his arms and sunk down into his chair to focus on his own notes. By this point, everyone else has arrived but the prosecution, and he was beginning to accept the loss already.

The door swung open, interrupting Nick's concentration, and the approaching click of high heels pulled him curiously away from the pile of paper in front of him. Even Winter checked over his shoulder to get a look at his opposition.

A woman made her way into Nick's field of vision, clad in a shapeless black coat with faux leopard fur trimming around the neck and sleeves. He didn't see her face as she slipped through the gates and into the court; just a thick head of ashy hair cut into a long bob. She turned as she headed for the prosecution table, just enough for Nick to spy blunt bangs skimming the top of a large black pair of sunglasses, and as she acknowledged the judge and jury, her wake caught up to her, leaving Nick to be blasted by a thick aroma of vanilla.

He remained still, trying to return his gaze to Eddie Winter to keep himself from staring at the woman, but once she'd shrugged off her coat, the air became even more dense with that scent, and Nick was done for.

Surprise surprise, she was wearing black: a knee-length dress and cut off half-way up the wrist clung to her curved figure, tightening around a small but obvious baby bump. Her caramel wrists lifted as she slid the glasses off of her nose, and she spared the courtroom a once-over, scanning it from Eddie on one end all the way over to Nick on the other, and that was where she caught the sad sack of crap giving her the baby eyes.

She was probably the most beautiful woman he'd seen save for Jenny, but the two contrasted like day and night.

She was Maggie, before the war, before Shaun even existed. Her husband still lived and she'd fought like hell in that courtroom to have Winter put away to no avail.

When she smiled, warm and crooked, the sound of a gavel hitting its platform run in Nick's ears, and he felt the pull back to the waking world outside.

 

* * *

 

 

“Careful, Mister Valentine.” Amari scolded before the detective even had a chance to open his eyes, let alone do something wrong. “We have no idea what sort of effect that experiment could have had on your consciousness. Keep still while I run a few tests.”

Nick huffed, squeezing his eyes shut reluctantly. “Doc, do I have to remind you that I'm a robot?” He drawled. “I can run my own diagnostics.”

Amari's hands were suddenly on his wrists, and Nick found himself pulled into an assisted sit with a heaving grunt from the doctor. “You're a robot who just experienced sleep for the first time in centuries. Have patience. Alright, now open your eyes.”

Doing as he was told, Nick blinked, finding the room just as he'd left it in waking life. He didn't exactly need to acclimatise to light levels, (one of the many perks of having glowing eyes) but there was a slight wooziness that came with sitting up. He felt a little more rickety than usual, and it could've just been Amari's pushiness, but Nick felt crabby.

“Where's Maggie?” He asked as the doctor swooped in front of him, pen at the ready to test his eyes. After shooting her the most blank look he could muster, Nick emitted a low hum, and for half a second his vision went static while his brain flicked through all the files in his brain. Nothing, as per usual. “I'm fine.” He insisted, and eventually Amari stood back, returning his expression with a scowl.

“Still out. She should come to very soon. More importantly, we need to discuss what you saw in that final sequence.” Amari replied, tucking the pen back into her pocket and crossing her arms over her chest. Realising that she'd seen everything he'd seen, Nick suddenly found himself embarrassed, like a kid who'd been caught staring at a lady. To his relief, she failed to mention his reaction to the memory.

“It looks like your memory of the courtroom is where your consciousness and Kellogg's met. Given that you crossed over into a memory of your own could mean that we failed to keep the two of you separate.” She went on, furrowing her brow. “I've removed his brain, but there may be some mnemonic impressions. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, ple-”

“Doc.” Nick interrupted flatly, brushing off her grave tone, at this point looking for an excuse to leave the room and mull over it on his own. Talking about his own issues with people didn't come as naturally to him as listening to everyone else's, and the fact that Amari had just seen one of his more prominent memories didn't make him any more willing to chat. “If the brain's gone, I'm sure I'll be fine. Diagnostics point to adequate health as usual.”

The doctor seemed to flatten at that, not bothering to stop Nick when he stood from the bed, nor when he made for the stairs.

“I'll be upstairs. It's amazing how much shooting your partner's husband can draw out a nicotine craving.” He grumbled already rummaging through his pockets for a deck on the way up to the Memory Den.

Passing Irma earned him a light and a vaguely sympathetic sounding greeting, but the hostess didn't press for information as he walked by, well-versed in the practice of confidentiality. It was a refreshing switch from how snoopy Amari could be, and snapped him out of his groggy stink just a little.

With nowhere else to go for the moment, Nick sat at the other end of Irma's perch, taking a long drag of his cigarette while she curled up tighter, twisting to face him.

“Find what you were looking for?” Irma asked, resting her jaw in her palm while Nick exhaled, long and tired. Jeez, that nap took more out of him than he thought it would. Physically, he felt fine, but some place else, he was exhausted, confused.

“You could say that.” Nick sighed. “Now we gotta nab an Institute scientist.”

Irma frowned at that, sitting up a little in her reclined state. It wasn't much of a shift, but any reaction at all meant something when it was Irma.

“Nick...” She began, tone warning.

“I know.”

“You're going to do it?” Irma asked incredulously. “Going after the Institute?” She tilted her head, trying to get a better look at his face, to gauge his thoughts. “Nick, I know you want to help people, but that's a new territory. They're a whole different kind of dangerous.”

“It's not as bad as it sounds, Irma, trust me.” Nick assured.

“It sounds to me like you're getting in too deep.” Irma sighed, settling back down in her seat and reaching for a cigarette. They both knew she wasn't going to stop him. She talked like she was responsible for him, but beyond the role of roundabout informant, they were hardly more than friends. She cut off the dramatic act after lighting her cigarette and taking a drag, prompting Nick to do the same.

“This one worth the trouble?”

Nick chuckled at that, sparing the woman a glance. “My clients are always worth the trouble.” He insisted, earning an expectant look. After that, he looked away, leaning his forearms on his thighs.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “As far as I can tell, this one's worth it.”

Irma's lips curled into a contemplative smile. “She's a pretty girl, Valentine. You sure you're not just infatuated?”

“What, you scared someone's gonna take your place?” Nick shot back with a short chuckle, deflecting the question. He knew Irma was smarter than that, but he also knew she wouldn't prod. In truth, he'd quickly grown a soft spot for Maggie, but this newly-refreshed memory of her threw a whole new steaming pile of complicated into the mix.

If Nick before the war had been attracted to Maggie, how much of their bond was just leftovers from the old Nick? Had he nurtured this new friendship himself? How much of what he felt was the old Nick?

He shifted, not pleased in the slightest.

“Hey, Valentine.”

Nick's attention snapped up from the grimy patch of floorboard to the approaching comparative cleanliness that was Meg. His gut whirred, but this time it worsened his mood instead of exciting him. He averted his gaze, focusing on the cigarette in his metal hand.

“Ready to head back down and hear what awful news Amari probably has waiting for us?” He murmured.

The lady gave no response, and when Nick looked up again, now used to a certain warped optimism to bounce off his gloom, he found Maggie scowling down at him in an odd mixture of hurt and rage. Her lip pulled up into a snarl, and the woman leaned forward over him, catching the synth off-guard.

“You wanna try for round two?” She seethed. “Let's go.”

Confused and still grumpy from earlier, Nick went on the defence.

“What?” He squinted with a new sharpness to his voice, not moving an inch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Immediately, Maggie slipped away, falling back a few paces and back into the scared shitless expression she'd been wearing before they went under.

“Nick?” She asked hesitantly, earning a grunt.

He was not in the mood for this.

“What?”

She visibly swallowed. “You sounded, you sounded like Kellogg just now.”

Crap. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it couldn't have been good. He'd have to run a more thorough diagnostic later. Kellogg was dead and gone now that they'd burned through what was left of his brain, although Nick wasn't too keen on having the mercenary's impression lingering in his own programming.

A glance in Irma's direction reminded him once more of the woman's discretion; she had turned her head away, wistfully puffing at the cigarette holder as if the conversation beside her didn't exist.

“Did I? Must've been one of those mnemonic impressions Amari was goin' on about.” He replied, quickly raising his hand when Maggie opened her mouth to cut off whatever she'd throw back at him. “I feel fine. Let's get back to the Doc. See if we can work out what where to go from here. She said she wanted to talk about that last memory as well, but that ain't so important.”

Maggie should've eyed him down then, but instead, she relented with a nod, accepting his excuse and looking away.

“I already spoke with Doctor Amari. If we're going after the Institute scientist, we're going to need to follow him through a place called the Glowing Sea, and we're going to need a suit.”

Nick paused. He'd been on the brink of the Glowing Sea before, but never gone in. He knew what kind of monsters hung around in there, though, and there was no way in hell Maggie was ready to head down there.

“Well, I'm a metal man so radiation ain't gonna do squat to me, but you're either looking at a suit of power armor and an extra couple of fusion cores, or a HazMat suit. Not easy to find.” He told her, rising to a stand. What he was saying was true, but maybe it might deter her from rushing in so soon.

“Yeah.” Maggie nodded again, this time quicker, still not making eye contact. “Yeah. I'll keep an eye out. Thanks.”

“Hey.” Nick led her further away from the hostess and toward the exit. “Something the matter?” The detective frowned, watching her shy away from his hand as it rose to her shoulder. Then it hit him.

He'd been so wrapped up in the whole Nick versus Nick drama that he'd forgotten that they'd both seen that memory.

The scene flooded his brain once more on a wave of humiliation and unease. Immediately, he felt the need to explain himself, that the memory was only coincidence, that the glaringly obvious attraction he'd felt in the courtroom really had just been the old Nick's, but then he found himself reconsidering.

What if it wasn't just the old Nick?

That thought only served to embarrass the synth further, and soon enough, after an ugly second of clearing his throat and stammering through a syllable, Nick mirrored his partner's stance, bashfully rubbing at the base of his now-boiling neck and keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes.

“Look, I'm pretty tired, Nick.” Maggie began awkwardly, her words already stinging. “I'm thinking of just staying at the hotel up the road. You might want to...”

“Oh, oh sure. Yeah, I'll head back to the office, that's fine.” He assured, scrambling through all the chatter of rejection in his head for words to use. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, took a step toward the door, and turned around with a new sentence that left him as soon as he opened his mouth. There was another painful pause, worsened when they made eye-contact.

“Just, uh, just swing by whenever. Anyone gives you trouble, go straight to Hancock.” Nick commenced a little shuffle for the door then, glancing back over his shoulder a couple of times. “Take care.”

Maggie offered a little smile, crossing her arms tight over her chest. “Yeah, will do. Take care.”

“You too.”

Once the door had closed behind Nick, he winced, hard.

Coming to the Memory Den was always a mistake.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Nick needs to sit down for a while. Next chapter, enter McCready and Hancock!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions or tips, please don't hesitate to let me know! You can also find me on my tumblr: http://beneficar.tumblr.com


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